As quickly as the storm arose, the men of Isle el Sol Bello gathered in the Delancy home. News spread fast when one of their small population went missing; particularly when that person was missing on the sea with a fast approaching storm. While the mother radioed the Coast Guard, the men made up a search party. With lanterns and flashlights, they scoured the shoreline in hope of finding the small skiff, the boy and the mutt.

On the wind-lashed beach the tide was rising. The push and pull of the storm-driven waves held the men back but they were determined. Constantly they trod the shore waving their makeshift lights calling the boy's name. "Sammy, Sammy," echoed from place to place only to be drawn away by the high gales.

In the small clapboard cottage, the mother sat in her misery. Although the Coast Guard responded to her calls, they were reluctant in send out a helicopter to search for her son. The wind and the rain made a search party impossible. Visibility was low; the thunder and lightning a fury in the skies. It would be a suicide mission to take the copters out on such a day. All the mother could do was wait and hope for the best, even though the best was somewhere next to hopeless.

The women of Isle el Sol Bello sat in the little living room filling the couches and easy chairs with their presence. They were there to support the mother of the missing child. Their presence was little support since all they wanted to do was talk about the loved ones they had lost to the sea. The mother wanted to scream for them to leave but had no voice to speak her mind. Deep sorrow was fast setting in.

Rain-drenched, the father filled the doorframe with his head bowed. The search was worthless. Another young soul had met a watery grave. The mother lowered her head and sobbed.